


It's Legal in Munich

by lets_talk_appella



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Bechloe Week 2019, Escort!Beca, F/F, Maybe a lil angst with a happy ending, and is not meant to, i love that that's a tag, in other words this is fiction it doesn't go that deep, not representative of individual sex work experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19940995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_talk_appella/pseuds/lets_talk_appella
Summary: Lonely in Munich, Germany, Chloe hires an escort to pass the night. AU. For Bechloe Week 2019: 20 Questions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU in which Chloe quits the Bellas before Beca's freshman year, so they don't meet at Barden.

Chloe’s never done this before.

She isn’t usually the kind of person who _would_ do this.

Still, here she is, sitting in her hotel room’s expansive armchair, fingers fiddling nervously in her lap as she waits for the escort she’d hired for the evening to arrive.

The room service she’d ordered waits at the foot of the bed, all stainless steel and shiny chrome lids covering the food, looking every bit as expensive as it had been. She’d cleaned, picked up her belongings from the desk (apart from the envelope) and from the bathroom counter, and had neatly packed her bags away into the closet. She’d made sure the bed was freshly made with crisp white sheets, the floor was swept, and the bathroom was spotless. She even had the balcony (with its beautiful view of Munich) cleaned off, just in case.

Housekeeping probably thinks she has OCD or something, but it’s worth it.

Now, she waits, staring absently at the king-sized bed, noting how the lights over the headboard can be adjusted, dimmed or brightened to her taste. It all seems perfect, and she hopes she hasn’t overlooked anything that might ruin the evening.

A knock on the door startles her, even though the timing is exactly what she’d been guaranteed. Chloe rises from the armchair, knees trembling slightly. She crosses the room in a few strides, rests her hand on the doorknob, and prepares to greet her visitor.

She has to take a few deep breaths.

Chloe opens the door and her brain freezes; the woman is even more beautiful than her picture had shown. She’s about the same height, or maybe a little taller than Chloe, with long chocolate hair, dark blue eyes, and pale skin. She’s wearing a stunning deep red dress ( _extremely_ low-cut) under a black leather jacket and completes the look with red stilettos that perfectly match the dress. She only wears light makeup, with black mascara and a beautiful shade of dark lipstick. She also holds a large black purse.

Chloe instantly feels underdressed in her jeans and pink blouse.

“Uh… hi,” she manages, shifting her weight as she remembers how to speak.

The woman smiles. “Hello. Chloe?”

Chloe would guess they’re around the same age; she thinks the profile had said she was in her early twenties.

“Yep, I… yep.” Chloe nods, hoping it isn’t obvious that her hands are trembling. “And you’re Beca, right?”

Beca extends a hand for Chloe to shake. “Nice to meet you,” she says, her voice cool and collected, nothing like how Chloe sounds to her own ears.

“You too. Uh, your American accent is really good.”

Beca smiles again. “That’s probably because I’m from the United States. But thank you.”

Chloe wants to kick herself. “Oh, right.” Had the profile said that? She’d just assumed Beca was German. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

“Cool, cool.” Chloe swings her hands around, finally clasping them together in front of her. “I’m American, too.”

“I gathered.”

“Right.”

Chloe attempts to lean on the doorframe, aiming for suave; instead, the movement feels jerky and awkward, and she can’t find the right angle to rest her shoulder against the frame. Her eyes dart between Beca’s face and the hotel hallway behind her.

Beca’s expression changes, her eyebrows drawing together minutely. “You don’t need to be nervous, Chloe. It’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Chloe puffs, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before. I don’t really know how to…”

“How to start?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, inviting me into the room is usually a good start,” Beca whispers conspiratorially, leaning in. It’s insane how breathtaking she manages to look even when she’s teasing.

“Right! God, yes, sorry,” Chloe says, quickly stepping aside and making a sweeping gesture with her arm to invite Beca in. She’s extra happy she’d cleaned now, because she doesn’t think she could bear Beca thinking she’s both an awkward lummox and a slob. She’s neither, of course, but this whole situation is uncharted territory, and—and wow, Beca’s perfume smells fantastic, wafting into the room after her as she steps inside from the hall. Chloe closes the door, but doesn’t lock the deadbolt, concerned it might feel a little axe-murdery. The handle lock should be enough.

Once inside, Beca turns to face her, seemingly completely at ease. “So, what were your plans for the night, Chloe? You paid for three hours of my time.”

“Oh, right to it,” Chloe says, startled.

“Well, you know,” Beca shrugs. “Don’t want you to waste your money.”

“No, I—I appreciate it.”

“So…?”

“Oh! Well, um, I thought we could stay in. I ordered room service, and uh, cleaned…” Chloe trails off as Beca looks around the room. Her eyes widen slightly, as if she’s vaguely surprised by the effort Chloe put in.

“This is nice, thanks,” she says, removing her leather jacket smoothly and hanging it in the closet. She also reaches down to unstrap her heels and when she steps out of them, she’s maybe about an inch shorter than Chloe.

“So, uh, since this is your first time,” Beca starts slowly, “I guess I’ll just… well, what we do next is really up to you. I can undress, or if you’d like we can shower, or we can have the room service first, or after. I can do some role play or the girlfriend experience, but I’m not a BDSM girl, that’s not my area of expertise. I also brought a few different toys—” Beca hoists up her bag, which Chloe had almost forgotten about “—but again, totally up to you. Thoughts? Questions?”

Chloe blinks. It’s not so much _what_ Beca had said as the matter-of-fact way in which she’d said it. It throws Chloe, makes her realize that she might be insane for even thinking of doing this in the first place.

“Um,” she says once she finds her voice. “Can we just talk?”

“Sure, we can start with talking.”

Chloe winces. “No, um. I mean, _just_ talk. For… three hours?”

Beca’s mouth opens, then closes. She’s frowning at Chloe, but more in confusion than anything. “I’m not sure I—”

“I didn’t hire you for sex,” Chloe blurts, heat beginning to creep up her neck.

Beca stares, uncomprehending. “Then…”

Chloe takes a breath. “I hired you because… because I’m by myself in Germany and I’m lonely and I just really want to talk to someone.”

“I… are you a cop or something?” Beca asks, her tone suddenly sharp.

“ _What?_ ”

“Like some well-meaning American cop? Because this is totally legal here, okay, and really regulated, so you can’t—”

“I’m not a cop!” Chloe promises, raising her hands in the universal ‘calm down’ gesture. “I’m just—I just want to talk to you. Really.”

Beca hesitates. Her eyes flick to the door and back.

“Look,” Chloe sighs, “I… I get it if you’re not allowed to do that. I mean, you probably have other clients, but I’m still going to pay you. Here,” she says, picking up the envelope of cash from the desk.

After a brief hesitation, Beca grabs the envelope from Chloe, but she doesn’t count it. She just holds it loosely, as though weighing her options.

Unease rises in Chloe’s chest, shoving the words out of her. “But, you know, I’m not gonna force you to stay, either. Hell, you can even take the money and leave if you’d—I know you’re probably doing this for a reason, so if you’d rather just have the money and go that’s—”

“Chloe.”

“Wow, sorry, was that offensive? I’m—”

“Chloe, hold it!” Beca laughs, her eyes crinkled at the corners. “It’s okay. Breathe,” she encourages quietly.

Chloe breathes.

Beca continues, “I’m not offended, or whatever. I’m... surprised. I’ve never… you’re just. I’ve never had a client who just wanted to talk before. It’s always been sex,” Beca shrugs, replacing the envelope on the desk, apparently leaving it for later.

“Oh,” Chloe pauses. “Is it weird? Hiring someone to just talk?”

A corner of Beca’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Yeah, kinda weird.”

Chloe cringes at herself, pulling a face and looking down.

“But I like it.”

Beca’s voice is soft, but it still makes Chloe look up.

“Yeah, I… that’s really kinda cool,” Beca says. “You just want to talk.”

“Yes! I didn’t want to have sex.”

Beca’s eyes narrow. “Wait... did you decide this before or after you saw me? You don’t want some of this?” she asks, gesturing down her body grandly.

It startles a laugh out of Chloe, one that bubbles free and is probably louder than Beca had been expecting. “Oh, you’re super hot, don’t get me wrong! Totes bangable,” Chloe winks, “but nope, I just wanted to talk.”

Beca grins, and she suddenly seems like a different person, somehow more real and relaxed. “Sweet. Let’s just talk, then. And about this room service?”

“You got it,” Chloe agrees, relieved. She leads the way to the bed, sitting on the end of it and pulling the cart of food toward her. She pats the spot next to her and Beca sits, reaching for a cloth napkin to cover and protect her dress.

“Drum roll, please?” Chloe asks, resting her hands on the nearest plate covers.

Beca rolls her eyes but still does it, drumming her hands on her knees to build the anticipation.

Chloe waits for a count of three, then whips off the covers of the dishes. “Ta-da!” she cries, revealing tons of food, including fancy salads, steak, pasta, cubed pineapple, and chocolate-covered strawberries.

“I didn’t know if you would be vegan or anything,” Chloe says as Beca scans the food with wide eyes, “So I got a bit of everything. Your profile didn’t say about food allergies, either, so if there’s something else I should get, just let me know, okay?”

The look Beca sends her is an odd one, her expression hard to read.

“No, I… this is good,” she murmurs. “Thanks.”

They start on the room service, pausing every now and then to comment on the food (“This is literally the best steak I’ve had in my entire life,” Beca assures Chloe). A little later, when Chloe notices how careful Beca is being about keeping her dress clean, she offers to lend her some more casual clothing. Beca only pauses a second before agreeing, and before long, she reemerges from the bathroom wearing Chloe’s sweatpants and a T-shirt that’s slightly too large.

“You still look hot,” Chloe assures her, earning an eye roll.

“Whatever,” Beca grumbles, resuming her seat on the end of the bed. “So was there anything specific you wanted to talk about or…?”

“Um.” Chloe takes a moment to drop her napkin on the now-empty cart and shove the whole thing aside to give them space. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Beca gives that same smirk Chloe has started to realize means she’s being gently mocked. “Okay.”

“Well, uh, we could play twenty questions?”

Beca lifts an eyebrow. “All right… animal, mineral, or vegetable?”

Chloe snorts. “No, not that, more like… I ask you twenty questions, and you ask me twenty questions. Just to get to know each other.”

“What kinds of questions?”

“Anything.”

“Um… sure,” Beca agrees after only a short hesitation. “Let’s do it.”

“Oh, okay, let me just—” Chloe pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and opens a new note tab. “So we can keep track of how many questions we’ve asked,” she explains, catching Beca’s eye.

“Smart.”

“Thanks! Okay, so…” Chloe scrutinizes Beca, debating what she should ask first. Beca’s eyes jump around the room, as if she’s not used to someone staring at her so directly. “Hmm… is Beca your real name?”

For some reason, the question makes Beca snort. “Uh, yeah, yeah it is, actually. Maybe I shouldn’t use my real name, but…” she shrugs.

“I like it,” Chloe assures her. “And Chloe’s my real name,” she winks as she hits the “1” on her phone to mark the question. “Your turn!”

“Um, right… uh, what’s your favorite color?”

Chloe pouts. “That’s boring.”

“Too bad. Color?”

“Yellow,” she answers, then hesitates. She’s not really sure how much she should ask about Beca’s profession, but the curiosity is overwhelming. “So, how long have you been… uh, working as a…”

Beca tilts her head forward. “An escort?” she asks, and Chloe nods a little awkwardly. Beca only smiles. “It’s okay, you can say it. I’ve only been doing it a few months, just while I’m abroad here.”

“What are you doing—”

“My turn,” Beca cuts her off with a click of her tongue.

“Oops,” Chloe apologizes, miming zipping her lips closed.

“Better,” Beca grins. “So what are you doing all by yourself in Germany?”

Chloe wants to call her out for stealing her question, but she lets it pass. “Uh, well, I guess I needed something new. I graduated from college about two years ago and I… don’t really know what I’m doing with my life, so I took a trip. I thought it would, you know, help,” she shrugs. “Maybe I’d ‘find myself’ or something,” she tries for a laugh, making fun of herself for being a cliché, but something in the way Beca looks at her makes Chloe uneasy. It’s as though Beca can see right through that.

Before Beca gets a chance to push, though, Chloe fires back, “And what are _you_ doing here?”

Beca’s entire expression darkens for a moment, and Chloe kind of wants to take the question back. Instead, though, she waits, Beca shifting in her spot on the bed, lifting her legs up to cross them in front of her. “Well,” she sighs after a moment, “I wanted to be in L.A., producing music.”

Chloe makes a noise of surprise, and Beca glances at her before looking away again. “Uh, yeah, so I went to a year of college because my dad wanted me to, but I hated it, didn’t meet any friends, so I went to L.A.” Beca grimaces, running a hand through her hair roughly. “And long story short, my boss said I had nothing original to bring to the table, so I gave up. I wanted to ‘find myself’”—she nods at Chloe—“so I went on a world tour, came here. I... needed the money, and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Sex work is legal in Germany, so, well.” Beca shrugs, meeting Chloe’s eyes almost defiantly. “Here I am.”

The emotion that rises in Chloe’s chest is hard to identify. It’s almost pity, but not quite; something tells her that Beca isn’t asking for her pity. In fact, she’s pretty sure Beca would leave the room if she pitied her, and that’s the last thing Chloe wants. No, it’s more disappointment that Beca had given up; she can’t explain it, but somehow, she _knows_ Beca would have been an amazing music producer.

Beca right eyebrow rises and Chloe shakes herself, realizing she’d been staring. “Um,” she clears her throat hastily. “Your turn.”

If Beca thinks she’s acting strangely, she doesn’t say. Instead, she asks, “Where did you graduate from?”

“I went to Barden University in Georgia.”

Beca’s mouth pops open and her eyes widen. “That’s where I went for a year!”

“ _What?_ What year?”

“Um… does that count as a question?” Beca asks, eyes narrowing.

“I—sure,” Chloe dismisses, hitting the “4” to mark the spot in her note. “So when?”

“I went there for the... 2011-2012 year? Yeah, two years...ago...” she trails off, looking alarmed by Chloe’s barely-contained excitement.

“Beca! I graduated in 2012!” Chloe exclaims, bouncing a little on the bed. “We must have just missed each other!”

“I… that’s crazy.”

“I know!”

Beca leans in, putting her elbow on her thigh and resting her cheek on her fist. “Were you like, active on campus or whatever? ‘Cuz you don’t look familiar at all.”

“Oh, totes! I was… oh,” she deflates, then waves away Beca’s sudden concern. “No, no, I was just… I _was_ active. The first three years I was in this a cappella group, the Barden Bellas, but things kinda…” Chloe winces at the memory. “I’ll just say it blew chunks at the end of my junior year, so I… quit. The Bellas kind of disbanded. But before that, I’d loved it, a cappella, the Bellas, everything.”

“Mhm,” Beca hums, fighting off a smile.

“What?”

Beca raises her hands, now grinning openly. “Sorry, it’s just. That’s pretty lame.”

“It is not!”

“Wellllll…” Beca draws out in a high-pitched voice, crinkling her nose.

“Whatever,” Chloe scolds, shoving Beca’s shoulder to get her to stop. “Hey, do you sing?”

The smile disappears from Beca’s face instantly. “No. I don’t sing,” she shuts that line of questioning down instantly. Before Chloe can push back, she fires out, “What’s your favorite song?”

Without thinking (there’s just something about Beca that puts her at ease), Chloe blurts, “‘Titanium’ by David Guetta.” Oops. Oh, well.

Beca looks way more interested than maybe she should. “You know David Guetta?” she asks, insultingly incredulous.

“Of course!” Chloe answers. “Have I been living under a rock?”

Beca’s expression shifts. “Is that your question?”

“No! Um… can you sing?”

“I… isn’t that the same question?” Beca asks, not meeting Chloe’s eyes.

“Nope,” Chloe says smugly. “Not at all.”

Beca glares at her for a moment, a look that’s probably (definitely) meant to be some kind of death glare, but she’s just so cute that Chloe can’t take it seriously. To counter, Chloe smiles brightly back at her. After several seconds of this staring match, Beca purses her lips, closes her eyes, and lets out a deep sigh. “Since you’re paying for this…” she mutters, and then she starts to sing.

Chloe should have seen this coming, honestly. She’s the one who’d brought up David Guetta in the first place. Still, it flips her stomach and stops her heart when the opening lines of “Titanium” leave Beca’s lips, more beautiful and perfect than she’d ever heard. It’s second nature for Chloe to join in—she doesn’t even think about it—and Beca’s eyes stop flicking around the room to land directly on her own. They sing together, and something stirs high in Chloe’s chest and deep in her gut and she really, really can’t believe this is happening.

It’s everything.

The finish the verse together and sit in silence, the sounds of their combined voices still echoing in Chloe’s ears.

Beca speaks first. “So, that was…”

“You’re really good,” Chloe breathes. “And together we sound—”

“Why is that your favorite song?” Beca asks abruptly, again shifting on the bed.

Chloe knows she shouldn’t—really, she shouldn’t—but she winks. “It’s my lady jam.”

Beca performs an excellent impression of a fish, her mouth dropping open in shock. “You—I—is that why you just made me sing?” she asks loudly.

“No!” Chloe laughs, startled. “I didn’t know you were gonna sing that!”

Beca’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t push it. “Your turn,” she grumbles after a minute, glaring again. (She’s so cute.)

Chloe bites her lip. “Um, you said you didn’t make any friends at Barden, but surely…”

It’s maybe a sore topic; Beca’s glare turns into a grimace and she looks down at the comforter, picking at it. “I met a guy,” she says softly. “Jesse. He was nice, but… I mean, I still went to L.A. We don’t talk anymore,” she says, then looks up sharply. “Actually, now that you mention… he was in a cappella too. The… Troubletones? Or something?”

A black mood rolls over Chloe. “Treblemakers,” she corrects tightly. “They’re assholes.”

“... Ah,” Beca says, delicately avoiding that. “But no, um, other than him, no real friends. I didn’t want them.”

It’s Chloe’s turn to shift uncomfortably. “I’m—”

“What about you?” Beca interrupts. “You had friends? Still talk to them?”

It’s technically two questions, Chloe supposes, but she can let it slide. She nods, her lips lifting briefly. “Yeah, um, especially my friend Aubrey. She and I were in the Bellas together, but, um, when I quit, she kinda… we lost touch.”

More like Aubrey had screamed at her until they’d both broken down into tears and stormed away from one another in a black rage that neither of them ever bothered to mend. They hadn’t seen each other after that, hadn’t really had a reason to. Chloe still misses her.

With a huge effort, Chloe pulls herself back to the present. “Does your dad know you’re here, then?” she asks, remembering that Beca had mentioned him earlier.

Beca pauses. “Well… _yeah_ , but—I mean obviously he doesn’t know I’m doing _this_ ,” she says, gesturing around the room. “I wasn’t exactly in a rush to tell him that his only child is selling her body to strangers, you know?”

Chloe winces. She doesn’t like to think of Beca like that, doesn’t like to imagine her other clients, probably rich, old, disgusting men.

“Does it…” Chloe starts, uncertain. “I mean… Beca, are you treated okay? Like—”

“Actually, yeah,” Beca says, sounding a little surprised herself. “It’s not bad. It’s so regulated in Germany that… I mean, I have a lot of rights and options. Like, I only have female clients.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods. “It’s safer and I enjoy it more. Most of my clients treat me really well, too, because they’re women, so they get it. You’re the first one to ask so many questions, though,” she smiles at Chloe, bumping their shoulders together. “Everyone else is mostly just sex.”

“I see why you thought it was weird,” Chloe huffs, looking down.

“I mean, yeah, but… I like this,” Beca assures her, then asks, “What about your parents? They know about this?”

“Um, yeah, they didn’t really…” she has to stop, then forces herself to continue. “They didn’t really understand, but since it’s just a vacation they’re good with it. They want me to apply for vet school—that’s what my plan was—as soon as I get home, though, but… the future scares me,” she admits uncomfortably.

“I feel that,” Beca says softly, looking at Chloe without any trace of judgment or ridicule. She looks at Chloe like she understands.

Because of course she does. It’s suddenly a lot for Chloe then, almost too much, and it’s entirely her fault because it was all her idea to invite a stranger to her hotel room in order to get to know them. She hadn’t considered this—how easy it would be to talk to Beca, how simple it would be for the questions to get deep and maybe she should have seen this coming but she hadn’t. She definitely hadn’t seen Beca coming. It’s alarming, how much this stranger means to her already.

It’s that fear that has Chloe flinging forward the first question she can think of, something so mundane she almost wants to throw herself off the balcony for it, but— “Your favorite movie?” she asks, doing her best to ignore Beca’s obvious, actually-impossible-to-ignore surprise at the change in mood.

Still, Beca recovers well. “I don’t like movies,” she says simply. “They’re boring and predictable. Favorite food?”

“Pasta. Favorite book?”

“ _Anna Karenina_.”

And wow, Beca is just full of surprises.

“That’s mine, too,” Chloe admits. “I had a Russian Lit class my senior year that I adored.”

That makes a corner of Beca’s mouth quirk up. “Nerd. Favorite memory?”

“Um...” Chloe has to think. No one has ever asked her that before. “I guess… my first day in a cappella rehearsal, getting to meet Aubrey and the other Bellas.” Her voice catches on Aubrey’s name, but both she and Beca pretend not to notice. “What do you love most about yourself?” she asks, then almost immediately regrets it.

Beca’s entire face shuts down, transforming into a neutral mask that sets Chloe on edge. Beca doesn’t look like Beca anymore when she deadpans, “Pass.”

“You can’t pass,” Chloe manages after a second.

“I just did.”

“I’m paying you,” Chloe reminds her, then because she feels like that’s a low blow, adds, “Please?”

Beca sighs, her eyes sliding closed.

Chloe waits, counting the seconds. She gets to twenty before Beca’s eyes open again and she sighs.

“I love… that I can create these… with music, right, it’s like I can _see_ the way the songs fit together? And I can sort of read them, until I can make… I used to make these mashups of songs that were just…” Beca’s voice finally trails off into nothingness, ending on a frustrated quiver that tears at something deep inside Chloe.

“I bet they were beautiful,” she whispers, reaching out to rest her hand on Beca’s knee.

Beca’s eyes snap up to meet hers, harsh at first before she softens. “Well,” she says, mouth twisting to the side. “I thought they were.”

“You would have been so good in the Bellas,” Chloe muses.

Beca’s face turns to one of utter outrage. “Absolutely not,” she says. “That’s lame, remember?”

“Aca-scuse me?”

Beca gasps in horror. “What the _hell_ did you just say?”

“I think you should try again,” Chloe says, taking some satisfaction in the way that makes Beca’s mouth snap shut. “With the music and producing. I think you should try again.”

For a second, she isn’t sure if Beca’s going to start shouting or just storm out. To Chloe’s surprise, she does neither.

“Maybe,” Beca says, and goes back to picking at the comforter. “I just… I run. That’s my thing,” she shrugs. “That’s what I… you asked what I loved most? That’s what I hate most. That I run.”

Chloe swallows. She didn’t mean for this to happen. But then, with Beca, everything is turning out to be a little… more. She reaches out tentatively, moving slowly so as to not startle Beca away, and lightly covers Beca’s hand with her own. Beca’s hand twitches under hers, but she doesn’t pull away.

They sit like that for a minute, until Beca clears her throat. “That was kind of… sorry,” she mumbles, taking her hand out from under Chloe’s carefully.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Chloe says softly.

Beca winces, wrinkling her nose. “Still. Um, my turn? In the game?”

It takes Chloe a second; she’d forgotten all about twenty questions. “Um, I guess, unless you don’t want—”

“What’s your biggest regret?”

“That I didn’t do enough experimenting in college.”

Beca’s lips part in surprise. “Uh—”

“That, and quitting the Bellas, and losing Aubrey because of it,” Chloe adds more quietly.

“Mmm. That’s a lot of regret.”

Chloe glances up, the familiar guilt settling in her chest. “Maybe if I’d… we _could_ have recruited, you know. I just didn’t want to. Aubrey changed after she—after junior year.”

“What happened?” Beca asks, tilting her head. “If you want to talk about it, you can.”

Chloe looks out to the balcony, stalling for time. Munich is lit up, sprawled out in front of her, and yet, there’s nowhere she’d rather be than in this room with Beca.

“Chlo?”

Warmth rushes through Chloe at the nickname, and she turns to see those beautiful eyes, filled with nothing but curiosity and concern.

“There’s—there’s a video,” Chloe starts, “but really, I don’t recommend. Um, it was our big performance, the International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella.”

Beca’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“And everything was going well, until Aubrey had her solo. She—well, it isn’t her fault, she just gets nervous and it really messes with her stomach. She kinda… projectile vomited over the first three rows.”

Beca jolts, a hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God. _Oh my God._ She did not.”

Chloe nods grimly. “She did.”

“That’s… disturbing, but hilarious.”

“Yeah, the judges agreed more with ‘disturbing,’ and we got last place. After that, Aubrey changed and got really… she was _mean_. I didn’t want to do it anymore, so.”

Beca seems to absorb that, letting her hand fall back into her lap. She doesn’t say anything for so long that Chloe begins to wonder if she’d overshared. “Is that—”

“Do you have the video?” Beca asks suddenly, smirk firmly in place. “I’d _love_ it.”

The tension breaks instantly, and Chloe lets out a peal of laughter that makes Beca’s smirk morph into a full smile. “Purely for scientific purposes,” Beca assures her.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. It’s on YouTube, but you’ll have to do that on your own time.”

Beca pretends to pout, and really, how can someone be so hot and adorable at the same time? And then Beca’s looking at her expectantly, and Chloe remembers it’s her turn.

“Um, biggest fear?” she asks.

“Failure,” Beca replies instantly. “You?”

“Being alone.”

Beca nods sincerely. “I’m not surprised by that, considering you hired someone to hang out with you.” And there’s that smirk again.

“Oh shut _up!_ ” Chloe grins, smacking Beca lightly on the shoulder. “Um… what would make you fall in love with someone?”

“Oooh, good question.” Beca runs her tongue over the front of her teeth, thinking. “Well,” she starts slowly, “they have to be funny. And they have to think I’m funny.”

“Of course.”

“And kind, it’s important that they’re kind. And not just to me, I mean, like, to waiters and even telemarketers, and just. They have to be kind.” Beca glances at her, and Chloe waits, silently encouraging her to continue. “Um, they have to love music. _Obviously_. They have to be patient, because I’m not always… yeah. And they can’t—they can’t run away or cheat or leave when it gets hard,” she says, color rising into her neck and cheeks. “They can’t shout, and they have to encourage people’s dreams instead of shooting them down or calling them ‘hobbies’ or anything.”

Chloe isn’t a psychologist, but it doesn’t take someone like Freud to figure out that all of this is coming from somewhere. There’s definitely a story behind it, and Beca _definitely_ hasn’t mentioned her mom at all, and Chloe’s dying to ask. But this time, she can tell Beca wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Good list,” she says instead, bobbing her head in agreement. “The music, especially. That’s a deal-breaker.”

“Definitely,” Beca huffs, then glances at Chloe. “Ever been in love?”

Chloe can’t stop the smile from breaking out over her face. “Yes. His name was Tom, and we were together for two years at Barden. He was really, really a good guy. We broke it off when he graduated a semester before me, though, because we didn’t want to hold each other back.”

“He sounds nice,” Beca says, a strange expression on her face.

“He was, yeah. Have you been in love?”

Beca snorts. “No, definitely not. There’s just not been anyone I clicked with, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Hmm… favorite place in the entire world?” Beca asks, and Chloe doesn’t even mind that her turn had been skipped, because it means Beca is too wrapped up in their game.

“Wherever I am currently. I live in the moment,” Chloe answers, then asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Beca’s eyebrows shoot up at the same time her eyes fall to Chloe’s lips. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

A horrible thought hits Chloe, and she rushes to make amends. “Not because I paid you!” she says hurriedly. “Really. Not that. But because I like you. If you don’t want to, then that’s okay, we don’t—”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

Beca rolls her eyes and scoots closer. “I said ‘okay.’ You can kiss me.”

“I—alright then.”

That smirk is back. “Do you want me to tell you how to start?”

“I think I know,” Chloe breathes, and then she leans forward to close the distance between them.

Beca’s lips move against hers perfectly, all soft pressure and warm skin that makes Chloe’s toes curl. She cradles Beca’s face with one hand, the other sliding around to the back of Beca’s neck, trying to ease the angle. She feels Beca’s hands on her waist, fingertips trailing around her sides and back.

Beca sighs into the kiss, opening for Chloe, and it’s really second nature for Chloe to slip her tongue between those lips. It’s easy to become lost in it, surrounded by Beca like this; Beca is an amazing kisser, every stroke of her tongue and press of her lips igniting sparks deep in Chloe’s chest, sparks that travel outward to make her stomach swoop, limbs tingle, and brain melt. And then Beca catches her lower lip between her teeth, biting down gently, and Chloe implodes. A whimper frees itself from her throat, one that Beca answers with a soft moan that tears at Chloe. She wants to surge forward and press Beca down, down into the mattress, kissing and touching and moving together until they both gasp and moan and—

Chloe pulls away, and Beca follows for the briefest moment until stopping, her eyes fluttering open in confusion.

Beca hadn’t wanted to stop—hadn’t been ready to stop—and that simple fact shatters Chloe, only to put her back together again.

“Chlo…” Beca has to stop, take a breath. “Do you want to keep going?”

A shiver runs down Chloe’s spine, hot and cold all at once. “God, yes, but…” _But I’m paying you, and we just met and I really, really don’t want to mess this up._ “...not now. Not…”

“It’s okay,” Beca breathes. “I understand. Really. It’s okay,” she repeats, when Chloe starts to apologize.

“I do want to,” Chloe tries to assure her. “That was really, _really—_ ”

“Yeah,” Beca huffs, scooting a few inches away so they can both breathe. “Yeah, it was.”

Chloe doesn’t know what to say—she can barely even think—so they sit in silence for a moment. Absently, Chloe raises her hand to touch her lips, still imagining how Beca’s had felt.

“Um, did we finish the questions?” Beca’s voice startles her, dropping her back into the hotel room.

“I don’t know,” Chloe manages. “I forgot to keep track after eight.”

Beca snorts a laugh, smiling crookedly at Chloe. After a moment, though, the smile fades. “My time is up, anyway,” she says, glancing at the room’s alarm clock.

“Already?” Chloe gasps, twisting to see that sure enough, it’s after midnight, the three hours she’d paid for spent up.

“Yeah,” Beca sighs, standing. “I should…”

“You could stay,” Chloe offers, but as soon as the words are out, Beca’s shaking her head.

“I really… I don’t want to mess this up,” Beca says carefully, and Chloe nods.

Beca goes to the bathroom, changing out of Chloe’s extra clothes and putting the dress back on. She comes out and hands Chloe the folded clothes with a soft “Thanks.” Chloe can only nod, suddenly much more interested in how revealing Beca’s dress is.

Chloe walks her to the door. “This was really—oh! Your money!” she remembers, spinning to the desk to snatch up the envelope.

“Oh, that’s—I don’t need that,” Beca says, refusing to take it.

Chloe frowns. “But I still used your time.”

“Well,” Beca says, lifting one shoulder as she puts on her heels and jacket, “it didn’t feel like work. Keep it.”

“But—”

“Really, Chloe. I don’t want it. This was… let’s not make it about money, you know?”

Chloe straightens her spine. “Let me take you out to dinner with it tomorrow.”

Beca hesitates. “I…”

“You’re allowed to date, right?”

“I mean, yeah,” Beca says, shifting her weight and glancing down. “I just… I have a client tomorrow.”

Chloe isn’t quite prepared for the rush of jealousy that crashes over her. It sweeps her off her feet, reminding her that outside her little bubble of how things _could_ be waits the reality of what _is_.

“Sorry,” Beca says softly, and then Chloe wants to punch herself for making Beca feel bad for even a single second.

“No, Bec, it’s—how about the next night?”

Beca’s eyes search hers before she answers. “Oh… kay. Yeah. The next night.”

And now Chloe can’t stop smiling. “Awes,” she says, leaning in to press a quick peck to Beca’s lips that only serves to make her want to do it again. So, she does.

They stand at the door, exchanging kisses, trading breaths, for what is most definitely not long enough before Beca pulls away.

“You’re dangerous,” she breathes.

“Thanks!” Chloe replies, making Beca laugh softly.

“Okay, I really gotta…”

“I’ll see you in a couple days,” Chloe promises.

With one last smile, Beca reaches for the door handle, turns it, and pauses. She looks back at Chloe, eyebrow lifted. “One last question.”

“Yeah?” Chloe asks, heart in her throat.

Beca smirks. “Can I have your number?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to make this one a mini-fic. Enjoy :)

Beca’s never done this before.

She isn’t usually the kind of person who _would_ do this.

Still, Chloe is the only client she’s had who has ever shown an interest in more than just her body. And maybe it’s crazy, whatever it is that’s happening, because she probably runs a better chance of getting robbed by this girl than actually forming a relationship of any kind.

Because who hires an escort to... just talk? Who even _does_ that?

Apparently, Chloe does. Apparently, Chloe would rather pay for a game of 20 Questions than pay for sex. Which, Beca hadn’t accepted the money, so technically she hadn’t paid, but she’d been willing to. That has to be some kind of sign of mental illness, right? Or at least, chronic loneliness.

And yet, Beca finds herself standing outside the same hotel room door she’d knocked on two nights previously.

Chloe had been nothing but friendly, kind, and sincere. She loves music. And—a little miraculously—it doesn’t seem to bother her that Beca works as an escort. That’s a nice change. Beca can’t remember the last time a client had seen her as her own person.

It’s weird. Beca’s kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Beca takes a deep breath, unused to the butterflies she feels in her stomach, and raises a fist to knock on the door. She’d texted Chloe that she’d be there at seven, and doesn’t want to be late, even if she’s nervous.

The sound of her knock barely fades before the door swings open to reveal Chloe, the smile already growing on her face as she stands there in a simple but nice blue patterned dress and heels. A ripple of surprise runs through Beca, and she realizes that she’d half-expected Chloe to not be there anymore.

“Hi Bec!” Chloe chirps immediately, the new nickname falling from her lips with familiarity.

“Hey,” Beca replies. “You look great!”

She’s not just saying that because that’s what you’re supposed to say on a date. Chloe really does look stunning, but it’s more than just what she’s wearing. Beca realizes that there’s something different about the way Chloe’s holding herself tonight compared to when they’d first met. This version of Chloe is more confident and comfortable. This version of Chloe is probably how she is most of the time.

She’s insanely attractive.

“So do you,” smiles Chloe, her eyes roving down over Beca’s frame, taking in her choice of dark jeans and simple top under her leather jacket.

“Thanks,” Beca mutters, lifting a hand to rub at the back of her neck carefully. She’d never been the best at accepting compliments.

“So…” Chloe starts, her lips curling up. “Should I start by inviting you in, or...?”

Beca’s shoulders relax as she grins. “Nah, I was thinking that this time we could go out.”

“Ooh, where to?” Chloe asks, plucking her purse up from the floor and stepping into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her and giving it a push to test the lock.

“You’ll see. Just a place I’ve started to like around here.” Beca hopes she sounds coy instead of weird or vague, and Chloe shrugs.

“I trust you,” she smiles.

“Alright then,” Beca gestures for Chloe to walk ahead of her. “After you.”

Instead of starting down the hallway, however, Chloe’s eyes flick down and she reaches forward to link her fingers with Beca’s. Surprise rises in Beca’s chest, but she returns the grip; Chloe’s hand feels nice in her own.

They start down the hallway toward the elevator. Chloe’s room is only on the fourth floor, but Beca isn’t about to make her walk down the stairs in heels. “So, how was your night?” she asks as they walk. “Hire anyone else to talk to you for a few hours?”

“Yeah, actually, she’s gonna be joining us tonight. Hope that’s okay?”

Beca glances over sharply, opening her mouth to say—something. Probably.

Before she can, though, Chloe laughs gently and squeezes her hand. “I’m kidding. All I did last night was wander around the neighborhood and hit up a couple museums.”

“Right. Anything you like?”

“Eh, I guess. Like yeah, there’s a lot here, but I prefer having some company.”

Chloe says it so matter-of-factly that it makes Beca’s chest twinge. It’s probably inappropriate and definitely too soon, but she realizes that she wants to be there for Chloe if she needs someone to spend time with.

They reach the elevator and Beca presses the call button. The doors open, and they step inside the brightly lit elevator. As the doors slide closed, she has to fight back the image—memory, really—of pressing a client (she doesn’t even remember the woman’s name) to the wall of that same elevator weeks before. She drags her mind back to the present, listening to the bland elevator Muzak as they descend. The elevator dings and they step out into the lobby, making their way around small groups of people either mingling or checking in.

As soon as they’re out of the hotel, Beca veers to the left, headed for the nearest underground station.

“You’ve used the S-Bahn?” she checks with Chloe, making sure she has her underground station pass.

“Totes,” Chloe nods, and then asks as they start down the stairs to the station, “And how was your night? You had a client, right?”

Beca almost misses the last step but manages to catch herself at the last second. Chloe doesn’t seem annoyed or defensive; nothing in her expression sets off any alarm bells.

“I… did, yeah,” Beca acknowledges a little absently as she leads Chloe down another level to the correct platform, their hands still joined.

“What was she like?”

“Oh, um. I’m not really supposed to talk about it. Client privilege and all.”

“Right, sorry,” Chloe apologizes.

Which only makes Beca feel like an idiot because what she’d said hadn’t been _entirely_ true. While she definitely isn’t allowed to give the names of her clients, she can still describe the encounters or try to make some sort of joke out of it.

But until she’s positive Chloe is completely comfortable with her job, talking about her previous night’s experience doesn’t seem like the best idea for date conversation.

“No, it’s okay,” she says, not wanting Chloe to feel bad. “I get being curious.”

“Well, either way,” smiles Chloe, “I’m glad we could make tonight work.”

Beca nods. “Me too. And, uh, we should catch this S2,” she adds, gesturing to the approaching train. It clatters toward them loudly, brakes screeching as it slows and finally stops. The doors slide open with the now-familiar _whoosh—thud_ combination that promises access to all corners of Munich. They step on board along with most of the other people on the platform and find standing room only in their section.

“Wish we had these in the U.S.,” Chloe muses out loud as they find a corner and grasp onto the handholds, the doors sliding closed.

“No kidding,” mutters Beca as the train begins to move. “They’re nice. Usually.”

Their car is crowded and the noise of it on the tracks is enough that they’d have to shout to one another to be heard, so they can’t talk much for the rest of the ride. Instead, Beca finds herself both attempting to calm her residual nerves and trying not to stare too openly at a man across the aisle who is picking his nose with great interest, apparently not caring about the disgusted reactions of the people around him.

Thankfully, the ride is short, and they’re at Beca’s chosen destination in only a few stops. She tightens her grip on Chloe’s hand—Chloe only squeezes back—and they exit the train. Chloe looks around, surprise and recognition filling her expression.

“You’ve been here already?” Beca asks, watching the way Chloe’s eyes flick around the station as they walk toward the exit.

“I think… yeah, I stopped here once, but I’m really happy to be back,” Chloe promises. “Marienplatz, right?”

“Yep,” confirms Beca, and they start up the escalator to the street level. “I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty cool place, lots to do, lots to eat.”

“And it’ll be my treat,” Chloe is quick to add as they reach the street.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. Besides, I think I owe you some money from the other night.”

Beca shrugs uncomfortably, unused to someone taking care of her like this. “I—if you’re sure. Thanks.”

“Woah,” Chloe breathes, dropping Beca’s hand, and Beca glances over to see her staring around them with wide eyes.

They’d walked up from the station, which had deposited them directly into the center of Marienplatz. It’s a central, old city square; the Glockenspiel clock tower is on their left, cutting across the skyline and filling the view. Countless stores and restaurants line the other sides of the square, broken only by alleys and pathways deeper into the city. A street performer belts out covers of pop songs in operatic style near one of the main square fountains as people watch on, some dropping coins into the case in front of her. The square is crowded, but Beca has seen it much busier during times the Glockenspiel chimes and goes off. Because it’s nearing darkness, lamps and lights have begun turning on, illuminating the area in a soft glow.

“What do you think?” she asks, hearing the smile in her own voice.

“Beca, this is… it’s so cool!” Chloe nearly squeals it, tearing her eyes from the performer to look back at Beca. “You must come here all the time. I mean, I was here before, but it was during the day and there wasn’t all this…” Chloe trails off, waving her arm in a grand gesture over the area.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Beca agrees, pointing toward the clock tower. “We can climb up it, if you want, after dinner.”

“No way.”

“Mhm. It’s got a great view of the city.”

“Is it open that late?” Chloe asks, craning her neck to stare up it.

“Not usually,” Beca shakes her head. “But I made a call and explained, so we have special permission.”

“Just like that?” Chloe stares.

“I mean,” Beca shifts her weight, “my job kinda… the company is pretty influential.”

“That’s awesome,” breathes Chloe, looking impressed.

“It’s a perk,” Beca nods. “Um, should we keep going to the restaurant, then?”

Chloe steps closer, slipping her hand into Beca’s once again. “Definitely.”

With that, Beca leads Chloe to one of the main alleys away from the square, weaving around tourists and locals alike. They pass several bakeries and other restaurants, whose delicious smells waft out and threaten to ensnare Beca, but she knows their eventual destination will be even better. She takes Chloe past a bronze statue of a woman with one breast left gold and shiny from tourists’ hands, past an outdoor market, and by a large church, in front of which sits a performer playing an accordion. There, Beca’s is dragged to a stop by a sudden pressure on her hand.

“Wait,” Chloe says softly. “Is he—are they playing… headless?”

Beca spins on the spot to search out the accordion player; sure enough, the performer sits, his or her head hidden completely away in their oversized costume, with a curved sort of hook holding up their hat over the “invisible” head space.

“Hmm. Look at that,” Beca replies. “I guess they are.”

The look Chloe sends her is one of surprised delight, her lips lifted at the corners and eyebrows raised; they watch they performer for a moment, watch as kids approach with coins and the performer half bows with each tip, the accordion never stopping.

“So, I have a rule,” Chloe starts, “that if a street performer makes me stop walking, I have to give some change.”

“Good rule,” Beca says approvingly, and digs in her pants pocket for a few Euros of her own. “Wanna give them this, too, please?”

Chloe nods and lets go of Beca’s hand to take the coins. She fishes out some coins of her own and makes her way over to the performer, placing the coins in the basket on the ground in front of them. She smiles sincerely at the place where the head should be, and the performer bends in their chair, bowing to her. Beca feels her own lips lift into a smile at the sight.

“What?” Chloe asks her when she returns, rejoining their hands.

“Nothing,” Beca replies, lifting a single shoulder casually. “That was just cute.”

Chloe purses her lips as if trying not to laugh, but she doesn’t comment and they continue on their way to the restaurant Beca had chosen. She waves down alleys, past various restaurants and bars and souvenir shops, until their destination is in sight. And in clear earshot.

“The... Hofbräuhaus?” Chloe asks, either recognizing the famous tourist trap or reading the curving letters on the building.

“Actually,” Beca starts, “if it’s okay with you, I thought we’d go somewhere quieter and less touristy. And I know the owners and, trust me, the food is better.”

“That sounds good. I don’t want to shout at you to be heard,” Chloe grins, and Beca knows she’d made the right decision. So instead of the loud, exuberant, and somewhat aromatic Hofbräuhaus, Beca crosses the street and shows Chloe into a much smaller, quieter, and far better-smelling biergarten restaurant. The second they walk in, the man behind the bar recognizes Beca and waves in greeting.

Chloe shoots her a look, a single eyebrow raised.

“What?” Beca asks, a little self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Chloe grins teasingly. “That was just cute.”

Beca snorts and rolls her eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up her neck. She spots a table quickly and they sit down, Beca signaling to the waitress, who smiles.

“You know what you want to drink?” Beca asks Chloe as the waitress approaches.

“Of course,” says Chloe, and after greeting the waitress, immediately orders a wheat beer.

Beca orders the same, and the waitress moves to the bar, leaving behind dinner menus for them to examine.

“When in Germany, right?” Chloe asks, her eyes flicking to where the waitress is collecting their beers.

“Right,” Beca agrees, then leans forward. “You know, don’t tell anyone, but I really prefer wine.”

Chloe looks scandalized. “No!”

“I know, I know.”

“I don’t think this date can continue,” Chloe says with fake seriousness, her eyes sparkling and giving her away. “Not liking beer while in Germany…”

“I am a disappointment, so I’d understand.”

“Pretty far from a disappointment so far, Bec,” Chloe winks, and then says, “You could probably order some. Wine, that is.”

“Nah, that’s okay. Beer is fine, and like you said, when in Germany…”

With perfect timing, their waitress reappears with two large, foamy beers in hand. “Are you ready?” she asks with only a slight accent, gesturing to the menus in front of them.

“Oh, um—”

“Can I choose for us?” Beca asks Chloe. “I think I have a good idea.”

Chloe nods quickly. “Yeah, go for it.”

“Um, so…” Beca turns to the waitress, and says in her best (and still rather broken) German, “Wir möchten den... Probenteller und zwei… um, Käse, bitte.”

The waitress’ eyebrows draw together slightly, but she says “Danke,” and moves to the kitchen to place the order.

As soon as she’s gone, Chloe leans forward, her expression partly impressed, partly amused. “What did you order?”

Beca shifts in her chair. “Well, I _think_ it was the sampler platter, because that’s good and we can easily share. And I asked for some Black Forest Cake, too, I think, but I’m not sure that one went through.”

Chloe’s lips twitch. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“Yeah, I…” Beca trails off, glancing in the direction the waitress had disappeared. “Maybe I should find her and order again in English, just in case.”

“Nah, it’ll be okay,” Chloe says with a wave of her hand. “Part of the adventure, right? Plus, watching you order like that was kinda hot.”

“Really?”

“Well… you made a lot of kind of angry noises, but it was cool,” Chloe grins, making Beca roll her eyes.

“Thanks,” she replies as dryly as she can manage. “That’s German.”

It only makes Chloe’s smile widen. “Do you always try to speak the language when you visit a country?” she asks, taking a sip of her beer. It leaves behind a foam mustache on her upper lip, one that Beca has to resist the impulse to reach forward and wipe off with her own thumb.

“Um, I guess, yeah,” she says as Chloe dabs her lip with a napkin, removing the foam. “People seem to appreciate it.”

Chloe leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin on her joined fists. “Where else have you been?”

Beca starts to reply, only for a huge wooden block covered in food to appear in her line of vision; their waitress had returned without her noticing. “The sample platter,” the waitress says simply, then also sets down two large blocks of dense-looking cheese. “And the… cheese.”

Beca blinks. “The… cheese.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, thanks!” Chloe chirps happily, and the waitress turns away to help other customers.

Beca leans forward. “Cheese?”

Chloe has already started examining the sampler block. “Yes.”

“Chloe. I ordered cheese instead of chocolate cake.”

“Yes.”

“Cheese!”

“You’re awfully hung up on that,” Chloe states, starting to transfer some of the food from the wooden block onto a separate plate for herself.

“My German isn’t as good as I thought,” Beca mumbles as she also starts on the sample plate. She chose it for the variety; traditional meats, deli slices, sausages, cheeses, a pretzel, and different breads. There’s more than enough, especially considering the chunk of cheese they were both given as well.

“You mean your German isn’t as gouda as you thought?” Chloe asks without missing a beat. She looks up, her expression blank.

“Oh my god,” Beca groans, partially covering her face with her hands as Chloe’s impassive mask breaks into giggles at her own pun. “That was… _horrible_.”

“Thanks,” Chloe beams, then tries some of the sausage. “Oh wow, this is good.”

Beca nods, reaching for some of the pretzel. “That’s the thing about Europe—everything tastes so much better here.”

Chloe covers her mouth with her hand as she speaks. “God, I know. I just want to eat everything. And, okay, you were about to tell me where else you’ve been?”

“Oh, right,” says Beca, leaning back in her chair slightly. “Um, well, I went to New Zealand, then Sydney, then Rome, Barcelona, Prague, and now I’m here.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, um. I’ve been here the longest for sure, everywhere else was like a week or two. I started running low on money fast and needed a job, and, well.” Beca rubs her back of her hand over the end of her nose absently. “After this, I’m not sure. Maybe Poland, maybe Ireland.”

Chloe glances down at her plate. “How much longer do you think you’ll be here?”

“I… haven’t really thought about it,” Beca says slowly, an unexpected heaviness settling into her stomach at that. She shifts uneasily, then asks, “How long do you plan on staying?”

Chloe grimaces. “Um, not—not too long. I don’t really have a set schedule, but, um, I was only thinking another two weeks or so. Maybe less.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Beca stares down at her food without really seeing it. She wonders anew if this is crazy, going on dates like this with a stranger. She’s seized with the urge to get up and leave the restaurant, to never look back or contact Chloe again. It would be a lot easier than… whatever it is they’re doing. Beca doesn’t know how this is going to end, doesn’t know when she’s going to leave, doesn’t know if she’s ever going to see Chloe again after these few weeks.

She does know that she can’t stand missing people. It takes too much out of her.

She glances at the door, mentally counting the number of steps it would take to reach it.

“Beca.”

Chloe’s voice is soft and cautious. It reminds Beca of the other night, how Chloe had seemed to sense her thoughts and had put her worries at ease.

“Bec, it’s okay. It’ll… we can figure that out later. We still barely know each other,” Chloe says. “I mean, I could turn out to be a serial killer, luring young, beautiful women to their untimely demises.”

Almost against her will, Beca’s muscles relax and she sits back. “Are you a serial killer? Do I need my official BU rape whistle?”

For some reason, the question seems to delight Chloe. “Oh, you got one of those, too? I thought they’d stopped handing them out after people’s parents complained.”

“Nope, I got one. I think it’s somewhere in a landfill, though.”

Chloe’s expression turns reproachful. “Beca, those are very important self-defense devices. Especially for young women traveling alone.”

Beca snorts and returns to eating. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything, but resumes tucking into her own food. Beca watches her for a moment, thinking about what Chloe had said; she’s right. They barely know one another. She’d been too quick to assume that Chloe would turn out to be anything more than a fling.

“Tell me more about a cappella?” she finds herself asking, genuinely curious. “What did you guys, like… do?”

Immediately, Chloe’s eyes brighten. “Oh my god, Bec, it was so fun. We sang covers of songs, all by women, like Mariah Carey and The Bangles and Ace of Base and—”

Beca almost chokes on her beer, taking a poorly timed sip. “Ace of Base?” she sputters. “You’re not serious.”

“Of course I am,” Chloe blinks back. “‘I Saw the Sign’ was the tits.”

“The tits.”

“Yes, Beca, try to keep up. We also performed backup for Prince once. His butt is so tiny that—”

“Hold on, I’m still—” Beca cuts herself off, searching for the right words. “Um, so, go back to Ace of Base. Did you guys sing anything from this century?”

Chloe shrugs, looking thoughtful. “I mean, we stuck with the classics. Aubrey didn’t mind.”

“But did you?”

“I—” Chloe stops abruptly, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I guess,” she starts slowly, “it might have been… _nice…_ to branch out.”

“Hmm.”

“But we still had fun! Like, once we went to Denver and performed at a massive outdoor event.”

“Okay, um, tell me about that, and about your top favorite performances, and why,” Beca suggests, selecting a piece of bread. A cappella might not be her thing (she still thinks it’s pretty lame), but it makes her happy to see how excited Chloe gets over it.

Several minutes later, however, after hearing all about confetti cannons in Kansas and about someone named Alice who, frankly, sounds like a total bitch, Beca might have to admit (the teeniest, tiniest admission ever) that a cappella actually doesn’t seem _totally_ lame. Like, she’d never do it herself, obviously, but the idea of it as an institution no longer makes her cringe in secondhand embarrassment. She kind of wants to hear more about it, actually, and so when their waitress returns not with the check but instead with two slices of Black Forest Cake and a wink, Beca only keeps asking questions. (The blocks of cheese sit forgotten.)

“You guys had actual initiations? No way.”

Chloe nods emphatically, taking a bite of her cake. “Oh, totes. Aca-initiations, where we lit up a ton of candles and had the recruits swear not to mess around with Trebles and they drank the blood of the sisters.”

Beca almost spits out her cake. She needs to stop eating and drinking when Chloe talks. “Dude, no, that’s—”

“It was Boones Farm,” Chloe waves a hand dismissively.

“Right,” Beca says faintly, then something occurs to her. “So you guys would have had to kick me out anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“That guy? Jesse? He was a Treble, remember?”

“Oh,” Chloe says, deflating slightly for some reason. “I mean, maybe not. I’m sure we could have made an exception.”

Beca purses her lips, purposefully trying to look as skeptical as she can.

Chloe is quick to expand. “Well I’d have been co-captains with Aubrey, and I wouldn’t have let her kick you out. She’d have liked you, anyway, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Beca allows, finishing the last bite of her cake. She isn’t sure what gives her the courage to ask, but she says, “Um, do you… I mean, are you sure you two can’t… like, work something out?”

Chloe’s expression turns unreadable.

“I mean, like,” Beca is quick to add, “the way you talk about her, I just—you were obviously close, and I think that maybe—”

“Maybe,” Chloe cuts her off. “Maybe one day, but…” she trails off with a shrug, and Beca wants to kick herself for rambling. It wasn’t any of her business in the first place.

“Right,” she mumbles faintly.

“I’m really glad we got the cake,” Chloe says, bluntly changing the subject. Beca glances up, but she doesn’t seem angry, only done talking about Aubrey. “It was nice of the waitress.”

Beca nods, somewhat relieved. “Yeah, that’s a perk of knowing the owner, I guess,” she says. “Um, we kind of have to signal if we’re ready to pay. It’s different here.”

“Got it,” Chloe says confidently, catching the waitress’ eye and giving a little wave. As the waitress starts over, Chloe digs in her purse and pulls out a familiar looking envelope, resting it on the table.

Beca’s hand twitches and she almost reaches for the envelope instinctively—she’s just so used to being paid out of plain white envelopes—but she manages to stop herself just in time. To cover if Chloe had noticed anything strange, she quickly asks, “You didn’t take it out of the envelope?”

Chloe blinks. “Nah. Didn’t really need to.”

Then the waitress is there and accepting the money for the meal. If she thinks anything is strange about the form of payment, she doesn’t say. Instead, they’re thanked for their service, and they rise from the table to leave the restaurant. Almost instantly, Chloe’s hand is in Beca’s, though she isn’t sure who reached for whom first.

“Well, um, thanks again for dinner,” Beca says a little awkwardly as they exit the restaurant. She lifts her free hand to the side of her neck, rubbing it absently. “I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, it’s totally—” Chloe cuts off abruptly, her gaze zeroed in on where Beca’s hand meets her neck. Her lips tighten and her eyes immediately flick away. It’s quick, but Beca catches it, and confusion clouds her mind. “It’s no problem at all,” Chloe finishes a little brusquely.

And that’s when it hits Beca, like a brick sliding down her throat. She examines her hand and, sure enough, the concealer she’d used on her neck is now smeared across her fingertips.

“Um, I’m sorry,” she says, because that’s the only thing she can think to say. “Shit, that’s—”

“Looks like you left with some souvenirs?” Chloe asks, her voice light.

Beca’s face twists with annoyance. “I told her she shouldn’t do that. I mean, I have a ‘no marks’ policy, but—”

“Tough client?” Chloe asks, but she her tone of voice is back to normal. She’s still holding tight to Beca’s hand as they walk, and Beca notices with some relief that she doesn’t seem angry. At least, she looks as Beca like she always does, and though her eyebrows are slightly drawn together, it seems more in concern than anything.

“Um, no,” Beca replies after a moment. “She was just—uh, she liked it a little rougher.”

Which is also partially the reason Beca chose to wear a regular shirt and jacket instead of anything backless. But Chloe doesn’t need to know that much detail.

Chloe’s eyes flash with mirth and she winks. “Your client and I have that in common.”

The air rushes from Beca’s lungs. “Oh?”

Chloe’s smile widens and she squeezes Beca’s hand gently. Which, not helpful, because Beca still isn’t sure if she’s kidding or not, and she kind of thinks she might actually get whiplash from spending time with Chloe. It hits her all over again how much more confident this version of Chloe is compared to the one she’d initially met.

“So, uh,” Chloe starts as they draw nearer to Marienplatz once again, “can I ask you more about your job, actually? Not like specific clients, just more about it,” she adds quickly.

“Sure,” Beca agrees quickly, not wanting it to seem like she’s hiding that part of her life. “Fire away,” she says, then cringes at herself.

“What’s it like?” Chloe asks. “Like, what’s the experience like?”

Beca hesitates. “For me or for my clients?”

“Either. Both.”

Beca blows out a stream of air, trying to collect her thoughts. They’re walking slowly, but already almost halfway to Marienplatz. Around them, the streets have quieted as evening falls, many of the tourists already at their hotels for the night.

“Well, for me,” Beca begins, “it’s really… I mean, it’s a business transaction. At first, it was… well, um. Jesse and I, well, we never… I lost my virginity to my first client,” she admits, looking quickly at Chloe.

Chloe’s eyebrows lift, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, so,” Beca barrels on, “that was kind of awkward because I’d lied about that to the company, and to my client, obviously. Because that isn’t usually… yeah. But, you know, I’d looked things up online and, um, I made sure my client had a good time, and she paid me well, so, it was fine.”

“Was she careful?” Chloe’s question surprises Beca.

“Oh. Well, she didn’t know, so.”

“Okay,” Chloe breathes, giving Beca’s hand another squeeze, the pressure from which seems to travel up into Beca’s chest.

“Um, so, for me,” Beca continues quickly, “it really is just business, because I kinda… well, to do what I do, you really have to… close off a bit and focus on the fact that it literally is just money. And, you know, I do some, um, role play and—well, I can make it feel like it’s more than just sex, you know?” Beca risks another glance at Chloe, but her expression is neutral. “But really, I’ve gotten to the point where it’s just—like, it’s still fun, but it doesn’t mean anything beyond money.”

Chloe nods slowly, her lower lip drawn between her teeth. “And for your clients?”

Beca takes a deep breath. “Well, it’s like I said to you the other night. They can really customize the experience, depending on what they want and what they pay for. They all understand that it’s just for money, though.”

A corner of Chloe’s mouth quirks up. “I do distinctly remember an optional bag of toys.”

It startles a little huff from Beca. “Yeah, that. Some clients want those, some don’t.”

“What do different women like?” Chloe asks next, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh, different things,” Beca says, relaxing into the conversation more. “Some just want touching without, uh”—she glances around, lowering her voice—“penetration. Some are really into penetration, and like toys a lot. Some just want, you know, uh, my mouth. It depends, but everyone likes things a little differently.”

“Makes sense,” Chloe says, right as they re-enter the square, Marienplatz. It’s quieter now, only a few people milling around and a lone violinist having taken the place of the singer from earlier. They continue to walk around the edge of the square, speaking softly.

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to do?”

“Um… oh,” Beca has to stifle a laugh at the memory. “Once, a client asked me to speak in a SpongeBob voice.”

Chloe stops dead in her tracks, eyes popping. “No! You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish,” Beca laughs, shaking her head. “That totally happened. It was… weird.”

“Sounds like it,” Chloe mutters and resumes their walk. “Um, do people ever hire more than one escort at a time?”

“Like a three-way?”

“Yeah, or to just… watch?”

Beca shrugs. “Um, it gets a little complicated with that, but as long as the client is willing to pay both escorts well, then yeah. The escorts agree to it, though, like I’ve never done it because that isn’t on my list.”

“Do all escorts only have female clients at your company?”

“Definitely not,” Beca answers, noticing they’re getting close to the clock tower she’d promised they could visit earlier. “That was just my personal preference. A lot of my co-workers have even more, uh... _interesting_ stories than I do because they work with men.”

Chloe wrinkles her nose slightly. “I’m glad you don’t have to deal with that.”

“Me too,” Beca agrees, then gestures to the clock tower. “Um, it is getting kinda late, should we go up? You can keep asking me things,” she adds, and Chloe nods happily.

“Definitely, let’s go up!” she says, rocking up to her tiptoes before dropping back down. “I want to see the view.”

“Cool.” Beca leads Chloe by the hand to the foot of the tower, where a sign indicates that the elevator to the top of the glockenspiel is through the closed, locked door in front of them.

“Um, Bec? Are you sure…” Chloe’s voice trails off into nothingness when Beca crouches to the ground. She reaches forward, spying the key taped to the stone wall, and plucks it up.

“They said they’d leave it for us,” she says, inserting the key into the lock on the door, opening it and gesturing for Chloe to go first. “We just have to put it in the same spot on the way out.”

The impressed look Chloe gives her makes the hassle worth it; it hadn’t been easy to convince the employees to let her do this, company name or not.

She follows Chloe inside, making sure to close the door behind them, and they take the few steps required to get to the elevator. Beca presses the call button, and with a chime and a creaking noise, the doors slide open. They step inside and Chloe presses the button to go up.

“Do you have a boss?” Chloe’s abrupt question takes Beca by surprise.

“Like a pimp?” she asks, having to raise her voice to be heard over the clattering of machinery.

Chloe cringes a little, but nods.

Beca shuffles her feet. “Just the head of the company. She oversees the website, helps us with the legality forms, that stuff. She makes sure we’re safe.”

If Chloe is surprised that the owner of the company is a ‘she,’ she doesn’t give any sign. Instead, she draws her lower lip between her teeth and looks at Beca out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, um… so, the safety…”

“Yeah?” Beca thinks she knows where this is headed.

Chloe takes a breath. “I mean, how often—like, do you have to worry about, you know, catching anything?”

“Like an STI?”

“Yeah,” Chloe exhales, looking awkward.

The elevator dings again and shudders to a halt; they’ve reached the top of the tower. The doors slide open, and they step out onto the top of the clock tower.

“Not really,” Beca answers with a shrug. “I get checked every so often, but with women, it’s less likely. And also clients have to be screened for that. You should have done the process, actually,” she adds, looking at Chloe curiously. She’s fairly sure clients have to fill out a form disclosing that information.

Chloe blinks. “Oh. I just signed those forms without reading, ‘cuz, you know. I didn’t actually want to sleep with anyone. Sorry.”

Affection bursts in Beca’s chest. “No, you’re good,” she says, then gestures to the view. “And look.”

Chloe turns her head and gasps sharply; Beca watches the way her eyes move, scanning the horizon, drinking in Munich’s evening skyline. Beca knows it’s a beautiful sight. She’s seen it many times before, can clearly picture how the low buildings seem to stack on one another as far as the eye can see. By now, lights will be glimmering from building exteriors and from windows, silhouettes of the people of Munich cutting across them, interrupting their path to Chloe’s eye. The night sky will be an inky blue, with just the faintest pinpricks of stars visible in the middle of the city. For a sprawling city, Munich seems small, and the homey feel of it will resonate with Chloe even at the late hour.

Beca knows exactly what the view looks like. She’s seen it before. She hasn’t seen Chloe’s reaction to it, though, and that is far more important.

Chloe stares over the city, her lips parted and eyes wide, hair moving and twisting gently in the slight breeze. The breath catches in Beca’s chest; Chloe puts the view of the city to shame.

“This is amazing,” Chloe breathes, taking a step forward. The elevator had dropped them on a sort of platform that goes around the outside of the Glockenspiel, fenced in for their safety. Chloe walks along this platform slowly, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. Beca follows her, trying to map every shift in her expression.

Chloe takes another step forward, and her foot hits an uneven patch; Beca realizes she’s not watching her step and reaches out even as Chloe starts to stumble. She catches Chloe’s waist and holds her steady even as Chloe’s hands fly to Beca’s shoulders, holding her for support.

“Woah, careful!” Beca laughs, and stops, the laughter caught in her throat when she notices how close together they are. She swallows, hard.

Steadied, Chloe meets her eyes. “Are escorts allowed to be in relationships?” she whispers, her face suddenly much, much too close.

Beca’s stomach flips, twirls, flutters. “As long as both the escort and their partner is okay with it, yeah,” she manages, hearing the rasp in her own voice.

“Cool.”

“Very.”

Beca doesn’t know who closes the distance, but it hardly matters when the only thing in the world she cares about is the way Chloe’s lips feel on hers. Chloe kisses like she’s losing herself and the only thing keeping her tethered is Beca. She kisses like she’s trying to make Beca forget her own name.

Again, Beca doesn’t know who sighs first, who parts their lips, who changes the angle; she just knows that nothing has ever felt quite the way Chloe’s tongue feels sliding over her own. She tightens her hold on Chloe’s waist, hyper-aware of the soft feel of the fabric of Chloe’s dress beneath her hands. Chloe makes a small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a groan, that only makes Beca press closer, closer, wanting to draw every single one of those sounds out of her.

When Chloe’s back meets the wall of the clock tower, her hands slide into Beca’s hair, causing Beca to make her own sound of pleasure, pressing still closer. Chloe seems to smile against her lips as they keep kissing, neither of them wanting to be the first to pull away.

Beca might not usually be the kind of person who does this. But so far, she’s glad she did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping in mind that fanfiction is fiction - this doesn't represent individual experiences of employees in the sex industry.

For the most part, repeat clients are Beca’s favorite.

They’re usually polite, comfortable around her, and they pay the best. She knows what to expect from them, and they from her. She can even have genuine conversations with some of her repeat clients. It works well.

So when she’d seen that familiar name once again asking for her, she’d been able to imagine exactly how their evening together would go. And she’d been right; Kommissar is nothing if not predictable.

And after, just like clockwork, once Beca has put her dress back on and Kommissar has shrugged on a robe, Kommissar walks Beca to the door. “Thank you for a lovely night,” she says in heavily accented English, as she always does. “Was good stress relief,” she adds as an afterthought, making Beca hesitate.

This is a slight deviation from their typical script and Beca isn’t usually a huge fan of small talk (something about Kommissar has made her spew word vomit in the past), but she quickly recovers and manages, “Busy schedule?”

Kommissar’s shoulders lift into a shrug and she tilts her head gently. “Busier than normal. The World Championships are this year and we need to train. For a cappella,” she adds, picking up on Beca’s confusion.

“Oh,” Beca says, hearing the surprise in her own voice. She had no idea there was a World Championship for making music with just one’s mouth. It seems there’s a lot more to a cappella than she’d ever known. “Are you guys—you’re good? Since you’re going to the World Championships?”

A corner of Kommissar’s mouth curls up into a smirk that tugs at something inside Beca, and she has to block whatever weird compliment threatens to break free. “We are the best,” Kommissar states simply, her voice somehow simultaneously sensual and factual.

“Then I’m sure you’ll win. I’m rooting for you.” Beca tries for a sporty arm wave or something, but instead ends up waving her fist around aimlessly. “You probably don’t even need to train.”

Kommissar’s smirk widens as her eyes momentarily flick to Beca’s lips. “We will win, but… doesn’t hurt to reach perfection.”

“Of—of course,” Beca replies, wondering absently if Chloe knows about this competition. Maybe her group from Barden had even competed in it. “I mean, you’re already physically flawless, so, like, I’m sure your group is just absolutely, like, really also very flawless, and, um, it’s probably…”

Beca hears her own voice trailing off, distracted by Kommissar’s widening smile. “I should give you a nickname. Tiny mouse? You are small and cute like mouse.”

Beca is pretty sure she doesn’t look all that attractive with her mouth hanging open in surprise, but she can’t seem to close it. Thankfully, it only takes her a handful of seconds to recover; she makes her exit after a few more minutes of conversation, leaving Kommissar with a wave and a “You know where to find me!”

* * *

“You bought me a postcard with tons of boobs on it?”

Beca blinks. “Um, yeah? It’s the culture here.”

Chloe stares back at her, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in thought. She holds the postcard in question pinched between two fingers securely so it doesn’t flutter away in the breeze. The various images of cleavage adorned in tight-fitting, colorful traditional German clothing stand out proudly on the postcard.

“Oh,” Chloe says, studying the images. “And I assume the beer also pictured is…”

“Traditional.”

“Awes. I love it. Very Munich,” Chloe decides happily, sliding the postcard into her bag. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Beca grins, reaching for Chloe’s hand automatically as they walk away from the souvenir shop. Around them, the late-afternoon streets bustle with vendors, shoppers, and wanderers like themselves. “Least I could do after you organized today.”

“Yeah? You had fun, right?” Chloe asks with wide eyes. “It wasn’t weird or anything?”

Beca shrugs. “I think all the looks we got from old people made any weirdness worth it. It was definitely fun, Chlo.”

Chloe’s beaming smile does something funny to Beca’s stomach, making it twist and flip pleasantly. Beca hadn’t been expecting to have as much fun as she did on the e-scooter tour Chloe had organized—in fact, she’d been pretty sure she was going to crash and die or get hit by a car and die or maybe just spontaneously die somehow—but it had been one of her favorite days in Munich in all the time she’s spent there.

They’d ridden around the city on electric scooters, accompanied by a tour guide who knew seemingly everything about the history of Munich, including its good times and dark days. Both she and Chloe learned a lot, took tons of photos, and ate more than they probably should have. They’d visited a biergarten in the English Garden, watched people surf in the middle of the city, saw the college, and generally zipped along the streets, wind flowing thought their hair. People stared at them, many waving in excitement, but some older people shot them glares that made Beca laugh. She didn’t know what their problem was; she was having too much fun to care.

She had fallen once, but only because she’d been trying to impress Chloe by jumping a curb. The curb had bested her, and her scooter went one flying off in one direction while she went in another, hitting the pavement hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. She’d been fine, with more harm done to her ego than to her body; she’d been embarrassed, face burning, until Chloe had helped her up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Yeah. It had been a good day.

“I’m happy you liked it,” Chloe chirps, apparently satisfied with herself. “I’ve always wanted to do it.”

Beca nods. “Maybe I’ll have to get an e-scooter of my own, just because.”

“I think you should. They’re fun. And good for the environment.”

“Mmm,” Beca hums, distracted as her eyes land on a nearby gelato stand. Her mouth waters in anticipation; she’s never been able to turn down the sweet, cool dessert. “You want some?” she asks, tilting her head toward the stand. “I can grab it.”

“Oooh, sure,” Chloe agrees, her eyes moving toward the stand. “I’ll take…um, strawberry on a cone,” she decides after a second.

“Okay, one sec,” says Beca, dropping Chloe’s hand and stepping toward the gelato stand. She orders Chloe’s choice and a scoop of chocolate on a cone for herself, and hands the woman behind the stand the money.

The woman scoops the gelato, handing Beca the strawberry first. “Your girlfriend is very pretty,” she says as she prepares Beca’s order. “You two look good together. Happy.”

“Oh, uh—” Beca hesitates, then forces a smile, hoping she doesn’t look too awkward. “Thank you, that’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true,” the woman shrugs, handing Beca the chocolate gelato. “Have a good evening together.”

“Thanks,” Beca says again, then turns and walks back to Chloe. Her face is on fire and she really hopes Chloe, by some miracle, hadn’t heard or seen any of that exchange. “Here’s this,” she mutters, handing Chloe her cone of strawberry gelato.

“Looks tasty,” Chloe says in appreciation, taking a lick as they resume walking down the busy sidewalk. “It _is_ tasty.”

“Good, yeah,” Beca replies quickly. “Um, yeah, I like getting the gelato around here. It’s always good.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, it’s really—all the flavors are—”

“Girlfriend, huh?”

Beca’s heart stutters. “Um… yeah. I guess she assumed.”

“Is she wrong?” Chloe’s asks bluntly, her voice free of assumption or pressure; with a glance over at her, Beca realizes that Chloe is asking her to make the decision without cornering her. She understands that no matter her answer, Chloe will still be there for her and that nothing has to change unless she wants it to.

“I…”

“It’s okay,” Chloe says with a shrug. “We don’t have to label—”

“No, it’s not—” Beca cuts herself off with a huff. “Um, it’s just—I mean, Chlo, this isn’t really… like, you’re leaving Germany soon, and it’s not like I’m planning on being here forever, but I don’t know where I’ll end up. So, I don’t… you know?”

Chloe nods, taking another lick of her gelato; Beca notices that her own has started to melt, chocolatey drips rolling down the dessert and descending precariously close to the cone and her hand. She quickly catches them with her tongue as Chloe says, “Yeah, I know, and that’s—that’s fine. I was only wondering.”

“For sure,” Beca breathes, relieved and, once again, more than a little surprised by Chloe.

Around them, the late afternoon Munich streets bustle with tourists and locals, bikes passing every few seconds with a jingle of their bells. A group of kids across the street crowd around a street performer with a violin, laughing whenever the performer winks playfully at them.

As they walk, taking in the sights, Beca’s mind races. Though Chloe hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, and the silence blanketing them is a comfortable one, she feels uneasy. Their conversation had been too similar to one she’d had before, but with a completely different outcome.

“Do you want to go watch the surfing again?” Chloe asks. “I know it’s all the way in the park, but I thought it was aca-awesome.”

“Hmm?”

“The surfing? Do you want to…” Chloe trails off, her eyes flicking between both of Beca’s. Somewhere along the way, she must have finished her gelato; the dessert is gone, its only remnant a smudge of strawberry at one corner of Chloe’s mouth. “Bec? What’s up?”

“Um, you’ve got a bit of…” Beca points to the same spot by her own mouth, and Chloe gets the hint and swipes at the spot impatiently with a napkin.

“Are you good?” Chloe asks once her face is clean of gelato. Concern fills her expression, a line appearing between her eyebrows.

Beca scrunches up her face. “I—yeah, it’s just—um. A couple weeks after I started working here, I went on a few dates with a guy I met.” The words spew out of her, and she risks a glance at Chloe, who only nods in slow encouragement.

“Right,” Beca huffs. “And things were good or whatever, but then he started to get… weird. About my job,” she answers Chloe’s look of confusion.

“Oh,” Chloe says softly, her eyes softening.

“Yeah. He got jealous and wanted me to quit, and when I wouldn’t, he called me these… just horrible things. It—it scared me.”

“I’m so sorry, Bec,” Chloe whispers.

Their walk slows to a crawl, until they finally stop off to the side of the walkway, next to a corner of a random building.

Beca forces a shrug. “Thanks. I ended it with him, and I haven’t seen him since, but… I don’t like talking about my job so much anymore, and then when you started… I don’t know, I was always nervous that you’d—” She stops to take a breath. “You wouldn’t. I know that. But still…”

“But it was still hard?” Chloe guesses carefully.

Beca nods, laughing a little at herself. “Yeah, kinda dumb maybe, but…”

“Not dumb,” Chloe says immediately. “After that—after what you had to deal with, I get it.”

The look on Chloe’s face, nearing guilt, jolts Beca’s stomach. “And I know you’re not like that,” she says quickly. “I knew that the second you asked me to play Twenty Questions. It’s still just kind of… hard… sometimes, and the thing about labels just...”

“I hear you,” Chloe replies quietly when it becomes apparent Beca isn’t going to finish her sentence. “Thanks for telling me.”

Beca manages a small, sincere smile, feeling… not lighter, exactly, but maybe just that much more relaxed around Chloe.

“So... what do you know about the a cappella World Championships?” she asks, and Chloe’s entire face lights up.

“Bec! It’s so cool!” Chloe exclaims, and immediately launches into an explanation of the history of a cappella, the cumulation of which results in the Worlds competition.

Even if it’s impractical and unrealistic for what she and Chloe have to be labeled as anything other than “short-term” or maybe even “doomed-to-fail,” it’s not going to stop Beca from enjoying the moment.

As she has this thought, reuniting her fingers (left slightly sticky from her gelato) with Chloe’s, her phone lights up. It’s in her pocket, tucked away and left on silent to be checked later, so she won’t immediately see the email that, despite all odds, will change everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone still reading this one, here you go :)

Chloe really should have seen this coming.

She’s definitely the kind of person to whom this would happen.

Still, here she is, packing her suitcase for the next chapter in her travel adventure and finding herself completely blindsided by how hard it is to move on from Beca.

Which is ridiculous. They aren’t together. They’d talked about how _not-together_ they are. It should be a non-issue because they’re so not-together. It should be that simple. Chloe should be able to throw a wave and a smile over her shoulder at Beca and board her plane without ever looking back.

And yet.

It’s her own fault, really. It’s so easy to be around Beca. It feels natural, as if they were meant to have met. They’re so different from one another, but somehow they’re on the same wavelength. It has to be the music. That’s it. Beca lives and breathes music. She’s also kind, honest, and totally adorable. Even though she’d probably glare at Chloe if the word “adorable” was so much as whispered in her presence.

Chloe should have known better.

She’s not stupid. She knows her feelings won’t change a thing. She’s still getting on a plane tomorrow and leaving.

Beca isn’t going with her. Beca is staying in Munich, along with a much larger piece of Chloe’s heart than she would really like to admit.

Chloe folds her last blouse carefully, placing it neatly into the suitcase she’s packed and repacked and rearranged no fewer than four times so far. She’ll probably redo the whole thing at least once again before she actually leaves for the airport tomorrow.

She’s pretty much ready to go. She’s checked into her flight on their mobile app. She’s seen the big tourist draws in Munich, along with more of the local haunts—all thanks to Beca, of course. She’s got her S-Bahn ticket to the Munich airport. She’s memorized the route from her destination airport in Krakow, Poland to her hotel. Her suitcase is packed, and she’s left an outfit out for tomorrow.

Chloe stares at her suitcase, eyes traveling over its contents without really seeing any of it.

It doesn’t seem like Beca’s having all that hard of a time moving on. If she’s honest with herself, Chloe knows she should have seen this coming, too. Hadn’t Beca told her, after all, that what she _does_ is run? Beca had always been honest with her about what was going to happen at the end of Chloe’s time in Munich. Beca had avoided labeling them, mostly for that reason.

Chloe hasn’t really heard from Beca in a while. Well, two days. Not since their electric scooter date. Which wasn’t a date, exactly, but was more of a… well, it was basically a date. She knows Beca is okay; they have been sending brief texts back and forth, but nothing of any substance. It makes sense. Chloe’s leaving tomorrow, so Beca is protecting herself. Chloe doesn’t fault her for it.

They’d agreed to meet up one more time for dinner at the same bierhaus Beca had taken her to earlier. A sort of farewell dinner that Chloe already knows is going to be, as everything with Beca always has been, fun and exciting and bittersweet and _painful._ Chloe takes a deep breath.

Maybe it would be better for her to cancel and save them the trouble. She can already picture the way Beca’s going to spend the dinner rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck, her eyes darting around the room. She knows it isn’t that Beca is uncomfortable, but rather that Beca can’t stand goodbyes.

More than once, Chloe has caught Beca watching her, a strange expression on her face. Chloe never called her on it, though. She knows Beca’s struggling with this whole thing just as much as she is.

That’s the worst thing about this. Chloe knows perfectly well that Beca feels the same way about her. She can lie to herself all day, pretending that Beca doesn’t care, but it’s simply not true. Beca cares so much more than she feels comfortable with revealing.

A knock on the door startles Chloe, causing her to emit an involuntary little squeak of surprise. She looks at the closed door, already knowing who is standing in the hallway beyond it. She draws her lower lip into her mouth; it’s too late to cancel their evening after all.

She moves mechanically toward the door, her stomach fluttering with the same nerves she’d felt upon first meeting Beca. As she did then, too, she has to pause for a moment with her hand resting on the handle. She takes a deep breath. Another. Then opens the door, fighting a strong sense of Deja-vu.

The little smile-smirk that Beca gives her, though, is different from the one she’d given when they’d first met. This one is softer, more open, and is accompanied by a little, “Hey.” Beca, no matter how unwittingly and unwillingly, has become familiar. Her presence wraps Chloe in complete comfort.

Any thought that Chloe had had of cancelling their evening flies out the window at top speed and tips headlong over the balcony to shatter into fragments on the concrete below.

“Hi,” Chloe replies, her eyes drawn for the first time to the food containers Beca holds in her hands. “Is that...”

Beca glances down at the containers in her hands. “Oh, yeah. From the same bierhaus restaurant we went to before. It’s kind of raining, so I thought, you know, instead of going out, maybe we should just stay in?”

Chloe hadn’t even noticed the rain; as soon as Beca points it out, though, she can hear it gently pattering on the roof above. “Sure,” she agrees easily. “But don’t you think it’s more romantic to kiss in the rain?” She has no idea what makes her say those words, but they escape from her lips before she can even try to stop them.

Color rises in Beca’s cheeks unexpectedly and she glances downward with a small huff.

Her embarrassment surprises Chloe, and she tries to backtrack. “Um, I didn’t—”

“You have a balcony, don’t you?” Beca interrupts, arching an eyebrow as her color returns to normal. “We can always kiss on that.”

This time, it’s Chloe who finds herself tongue-tied. Before she can come up with any kind of counter, Beca continues.

“Unless you were hoping for one more stroll through Munich?” she offers. “Which would be fair.”

“Tempting,” Chloe muses, regaining her voice, “but a night in sounds really nice, too.”

Even as she finishes her sentence, she kicks herself mentally. Spending any more time alone with Beca is only going to make leaving her so much worse.

“Great,” Beca grins, her smile widening and eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you gonna start by inviting me in?”

Chloe laughs quietly and rolls her eyes at the old joke. “Are you a vampire or something?” she asks playfully as she steps aside, gesturing Beca into the room. “Always having to be invited in.”

Beca steps inside, shrugging off her jacket in a move that really shouldn’t be sexy but totally is. “Nah, but how cool would it be if I could turn into a bat?”

“I’d rather not get rabies,” Chloe teases as she closes the door and locks it.

Beca’s smile changes into a smirk and she fires back, “I only bite if I’m asked to.”

It startles a laugh out of Chloe, full and free, and she knows Beca won that round. “Speaking of,” she begins, leading Beca to the balcony, “did you have a client last night? I was kind of surprised you were even free tonight.”

It’s Saturday, and typically, Beca’s time would be booked.

Beca’s expression shifts minutely, a flicker so quick that Chloe can’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “Nah. I haven’t really had clients the past few days.”

“Slow time?”

Beca shrugs. “I guess. What have you been up to?”

Chloe flicks open the latch on the room’s patio door and helps Beca carry the food out to the covered balcony, where they can eat on the little table and will be sheltered from the rain. Out here, the smell and sound of the rain ensnares Chloe, heightening her senses. “Mostly packing, honestly,” she answers. “Some walking around. And figuring out where I want to go after Krakow.”

“Poland?” Beca asks, sounding surprised as she settles into one of the chairs and divides the stack of containers between them. “What’re you going to do there? I’ve never been.”

“I guess there’s a lot to do in the main city square. Lots of good food, lots of history. It looks beautiful online.”

Beca smiles faintly, her eyes not quite meeting Chloe’s. “You’ll have to send me pictures.”

“Y—yeah,” Chloe breathes, the weight of her departure suddenly weighing heavy on her lungs. Desperate to change the subject and avoid the sad awkwardness she’d been dreading, she asks, “What did you bring to eat?”

“Oh, uh,” Beca starts, opening the containers and naming each dish as it’s exposed. She’d brought what seems to be samples of German essentials; schnitzel, spaetzle, white asparagus with hollandaise, various meats and cheese, and a huge pretzel. “And there’s always…” Beca trails off, lifting the lid off a final container to reveal two slices of chocolate cake. “I got the order right this time,” she grins at Chloe.

Chloe smiles back, surveying the food. “This is really nice, Bec, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Beca replies, looking out over the balcony railing to survey the sprawl of rainy Munich. Her posture is just a little too rigid, her tone a smidge clipped.

Chloe instantly knows there’s something Beca’s holding back. Her first impulse is to start questioning, but she catches herself. She knows Beca well enough by this point to understand that Beca will open up when she’s ready. So, to pass the time, Chloe starts on the meal, trying to savor every bite. She doesn’t know when she’ll be in Germany again, and she wants to memorize its flavors.

Beca eventually tears her gaze away from the rain-soaked city to instead focus on their meal. It’s several minutes before either of them breaks the silence, though Chloe’s fairly certain she can hear the whirring of Beca’s mind.

“So, uh, actually…” Beca breaks the quiet first, clearing her throat and looking almost nervous.

Chloe swallows her most recent bite of food and rests her fork against the edge of her plate, waiting patiently for Beca to say what she needs to say.

“Sorry I haven’t really been around much the last few days,” Beca says slowly. She presses her lips together and runs her tongue over her teeth before continuing, every word spoken almost cautiously. “I’ve been kind of... arranging things.”

“Things?” Chloe asks, surprised. The script is, as is always the case with Beca, not what she had expected.

“Yeah. Um, the day we did the scooter... thing,” Beca reminds her, waving a hand in the air aimlessly, “I got an email from my old boss in LA. The music production studio?” the pitch of her voice raises, making it sound like a question.

Chloe’s heart speeds up and she nods uncertainly, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

“Yeah,” Beca says again, “so I guess my boss kind of—on a whim—shared some of my old demos with a few different production studios, and this place in New York got back to him. They’re interested. In what I can do,” she adds, an afterthought.

Chloe’s jaw drops. She knows she must look ridiculous; Beca starts to smirk at her, but Chloe recovers quickly enough to speak first. “Beca! That’s amazing! You—congratulations!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Beca says, blinking a little.

“No, really, that’s—what’s it called, the place in New York?”

Beca screws up her nose in thought. “BFD? I’d never heard of them, but I guess it’s an up and coming company.”

“That could be an amazing opportunity,” Chloe hedges, craving more details.

“Yeah, I… yeah.”

“Beca.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you give them an answer?” Chloe actually thinks she might explode if Beca doesn’t start giving details.

“Oh. Well, it doesn’t really work like that. Like, I have to interview and stuff,” Beca clarifies, looking more awkward by the second.

Chloe forces herself to calm down and count to five before asking her next in a series of questions; as excited as she is for Beca, she doesn’t want to force her into doing anything she doesn’t truly want to do.

“Do you want to interview?” she eventually asks, taking a bite of asparagus to seem nonchalant.

Beca hesitates, then gives a single jerky nod. “Yeah, it—it’s _terrifying_ ,” she huffs with a little smile, “but I said yes. To an interview. Terrifying and exciting,” she adds, another afterthought.

“It definitely is both terrifying and exciting, for sure,” Chloe agrees. “Though I’d have said you were crazy if you hadn’t agreed.”

“It feels a little crazy to interview anyway,” Beca shrugs, now reaching for her slice of cake. “It’s been so long.”

“Maybe. But they’re going to love you. How could they not?” Chloe asks before she can stop herself. Her face warms and she tries to hide it by taking another bite of her food. “So, uh, is it over Skype or phone or…”

“No, they want to show me around in person,” Beca mumbles through her mouthful of dessert. “I have to go over there.”

“That’s a good sign! When?”

“I fly out tomorrow.”

The words land between them, flopping unexpectedly onto the table. For a moment, Chloe simply looks at Beca and Beca simply looks at Chloe.

“Tomorrow…” Chloe trails off. Tomorrow is turning out to be a big day.

Beca nods maybe over-enthusiastically. “I checked, and our flights are actually pretty close together. We could—we could go to the airport together, if you want.”

Chloe doesn’t want to go to the airport together at all, because every additional minute she spends with Beca, it becomes that much harder to be able to leave. At the same time, it would also mean prolonging the time they have together.

“That would be awes,” she says, now starting on her own slice of cake.

“Cool,” Beca sighs happily, sitting back in her chair. “And, uh, also, I quit my job as an escort.”

“You did?” Chloe asks, surprise rippling through her.

“Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t going to, because if this whole interview thing doesn’t work out… well, I still need a job,” Beca says practically. “But I was thinking about it, and I decided that even if it doesn’t work out, maybe it’s time for me to try to, you know, figure things out.”

Chloe knows she’s smiling like an idiot, but she can’t help it. “Bec, that’s… I’m so proud of you! That takes a lot.”

Beca smiles at her happily. “You inspired me, I guess.”

And Chloe doesn’t really know what to say to that—her heart is beating too loudly for her to really think of anything—so she settles for a wink and another bite of cake. Beca’s eyes don’t leave her as she eats, searching her expression until it starts to make Chloe self-conscious.

“Do I have something on my face again?” she asks, mostly teasing.

Beca blinks and seems to shake herself. “Oh, no, just… what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me.”

“You know,” Beca lifts one shoulder. “With the vet stuff. With Aubrey. With singing and all that.”

“Oh.” Chloe again pauses, resting her fork on the table. “That.”

Beca grins crookedly at her but doesn’t say anything. She pushes away her now-empty cake container.

“I… don’t know,” Chloe says slowly. “I’ve been thinking and… I don’t know.”

Beca shrugs. “You don’t have to know right now,” she says softly.

“Yeah, I…” Chloe sighs. “I know that I can’t stay here forever. But… vet school has always been the plan, but I don’t know… what if I don’t get accepted anywhere?”

The question seems to catch them both by surprise; Chloe hadn’t realized that such a prospect frightened her so much, and Beca stares at her for a moment, blinking slowly.

Beca recovers first. “You’ll get in,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re really smart. And, you know, on the off chance if not, there are other options.”

“I suppose.”

Beca watches her, expression turning calculating. “I could see you as a music teacher.”

“Yeah?” Chloe asks, surprised again.

“Definitely.”

“I have thought about that before, actually.”

Beca lifts a hand to her chin, narrowing her eyes in thought. “It would suit you, I think.”

Chloe snorts at her ridiculous expression. “I would want to do elementary school, probably. Because—”

“Because you could teach them to love music,” Beca guesses. It’s not a question.

Chloe stares at her. Is it really possible that Beca already knows her that well? “I… yeah, exactly. You just… _exactly_.”

“I like that. You’d be great at that, too.”

Chloe toys with her napkin, the harder part of Beca’s question bouncing around her head now. “I think I should call Aubrey,” she eventually says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just to see,” Chloe shrugs, a finger tracing absently over the details in the grain of the wooden table. “I miss her.”

“I hope it works out between you two.”

“Me too.”

They both fall quiet, the gentle rain the only sound breaking the silence. Chloe shifts in her chair, a weird mood settling over her and pressing on her lungs. She finds herself thinking that if she and Beca had met sooner—maybe while they’d both been at Barden—they each could have figured out their lives that much sooner.

Maybe sensing Chloe’s shift in mood, Beca clears her throat. “So, do you want to watch a movie or anything?”

“A movie would be good,” Chloe replies gratefully, her wishful thinking scattering to the wind as she and Beca rise simultaneously from their chairs to clear the table.

It doesn’t take long to gather the empty food containers and utensils. With another look over the balcony at the darkening Munich horizon, Chloe follows Beca back inside the room and slides the patio door closed. They place the food containers on the room’s service cart and, without further ado, Chloe climbs onto her king-sized bed, props a pillow against the headboard, and leans back against it.

Still standing at the foot of the bed, Beca hesitates, her eyes flicking in the direction of the armchair as if she isn’t sure if she should join Chloe. Refraining from rolling her eyes in amusement, Chloe pats the space next to her on the bed pointedly.

“Right,” Beca mutters before joining Chloe on the bed. The mattress dips and moves as she crawls on her hands and knees to get to the head of the bed, and for some reason, the sight makes Chloe’s stomach flutter. Reaching her, Beca also props a pillow against the headboard, glancing up at the bottom of the storage cabinets above their heads.

“Comfy?” Chloe asks.

“Yep,” Beca says happily, settling back against her pillow. “Uh, I guess now we find the movie channel?”

“Thought you didn’t like movies,” Chloe remembers, reaching for the remote. “You sure about this?”

“Just don’t pick a boring movie,” Beca teases.

“I’ll do my best.”

She clicks the remote to turn on the TV, not sure what to expect. The first channel seems to be a news broadcast, given in German. She frowns and clicks the remote, scrolling through channel after channel, hoping for something watchable. Except...

Beca laughs as Chloe circles back all the way to the original news broadcast. “It’s in German. All of it.”

Chloe huffs. “I know we’re in Munich, but _every_ channel is in German? Really?”

Beca bumps their shoulders together playfully. “It’s all good. Or I should say _gut_.”

“Okay, let’s just…” Chloe trails off, scrolling back a couple of channels until she goes back to what could be a German soap opera. She gestures to the TV, an actor’s dramatically brooding face filling the screen. “What do you think he’s saying?”

“Hmm,” Beca muses, staring at the screen for a moment. The actor mumbles something in rapid German, his face twisting. “I think he said, ‘I had a bad chalupa for lunch and now I regret it.’”

Chloe lets out a snort.

“All right, let’s see you do any better, nerd,” Beca goads her.

The soap opera cuts to an actress, tearful and heavily pregnant. She stares beseechingly at the handsome actor, asking him something in a quavering voice.

“Okay, so,” Chloe gets ready to translate, “she said, ‘This is what happens when you swallow watermelon seeds.’”

Beca’s lips twitch as she stares at the TV. “Interesting, interesting. I could see that.”

“I’m so good at German.”

“Definitely,” Beca says, looking over at Chloe, locking eyes.

Chloe’s breath catches in her throat; she hadn’t expected Beca’s face to be quite so close to hers.

The world around them fades away until Beca consumes Chloe’s every sense. She’s very aware of Beca, of every quiet breath she takes, of the blue of her eyes. She’s most aware of Beca’s proximity to her, the space of only a few inches separating them.

Beca’s eyes flick down to her lips. “What happens now?” she breathes.

“I don’t know,” Chloe whispers.

Beca lifts a shoulder. “Maybe it’s time for both of us to go home.”

A dull pain races through Chloe’s chest at the thought. “I… I don’t want to go home without you.”

Beca’s eyes close and she takes a deep breath. “Chloe, we can’t… tomorrow, we’re both—”

“I know.”

Beca’s eyes open again. “Okay,” she sighs, but then a corner of her mouth quirks up. “You want to play twenty questions?”

Chloe nods, her breath catching in her throat. Allowing her own eyes to drop to Beca’s lips, she asks, “Can I kiss you?”

It’s Chloe’s question, but it’s Beca who moves first. A hand rises to cup Chloe’s cheek gently at the same time Beca’s lips meet hers. She starts slow and soft, all gentle pressure that only builds when Chloe sighs into it, parting her lips.

Beca’s lips, soft and slightly chapped, meet hers again and again, each time at a new, more perfect angle. The hand on Chloe’s cheek slides around to the back of her neck, as if Beca instinctively knows the angle of the kiss is harsh.

Chloe’s own hands move, one bracing herself up on the mattress and the other resting on Beca’s hip. Under her touch, Beca is warm and solid. Their breath mingles, and Chloe is able to taste the hint of chocolate on Beca’s. Chloe’s lower lip is snared gently between Beca’s teeth; it pulls a soft whimper from within her chest and Beca smiles into the kiss, pressing closer.

Chloe has never been kissed like this before, so slow and thorough. She’s had her share of good and great kisses. Every kiss with Beca prior to this had been nothing less than amazing. But this is different. Chloe had always believed her body belongs to her, and to her alone. Right now, though… _yours_ , she thinks as Beca deepens the kiss. _I’m yours._

The curl of Beca’s tongue around her own makes Chloe’s fingers curl into the denim at Beca’s hip. She pulls, guides, until she’s lying on the bed with Beca half on top of her.

“Chloe,” Beca breathes, pulling back slightly, and for a second, Chloe’s terrified she’s about to stop. But then Beca’s mouth descends along her jaw, until Chloe has to tilt her head to expose more of her neck to Beca’s lips. Her fingers wind themselves into Beca’s tresses, and when Beca pauses at her pulse point, Chloe knows she must be able to feel how quickly her heart is pounding.

At the first touch of Beca’s tongue on her skin, Chloe gasps and arches. Again, Beca pauses, only to pull Chloe’s skin into her mouth more firmly, marking her. Chloe chokes on air, desire welling inside her and building low in her gut, and her hands drop to Beca’s backside, pulling her hips forward.

This time, it’s Beca who gasps, a broken breath leaving her and dissipating over Chloe’s overheated skin. “I…”

Drawing her lip between her teeth, hoping above all she isn’t reading things wrong, Chloe takes her hands from Beca’s ass to instead reach between them, unbuttoning Beca’s top. Beca goes still above her but doesn’t say anything. Her breathing becomes rapid puffs as Chloe undoes the last button and the shirt falls open.

Chloe just looks for a moment, stares at Beca’s chest in her simple black bra, before reaching to touch her gently. Beca’s eyes flutter and her head drops so she rests her forehead against Chloe’s.

“Chloe,” she whispers again. “You _know—_ ”

“I know,” Chloe says, her hands sliding over Beca’s bare skin to rest on her lower back. “But I don’t care.”

Beca stares down at her for a moment, eyes jumping between each of her own. Chloe waits, her entire body screaming for Beca’s touch. When Beca sits up, Chloe’s stomach plummets. But then Beca allows her shirt to slide the rest of the way from her shoulders and reaches to the headboard; she flicks a little switch, and the room lights go out as soft light emits from above the bed.

Chloe blinks up, surprised. “How did you know about that?”

Beca smiles down at her, features soft in the warm lighting. “I saw it the first time I was here.”

Chloe gives a small laugh that breaks off as the tips of Beca’s fingers toy with the hem of her shirt. They trace back and forth for several long seconds, until Chloe becomes impatient. She reaches down and sits up so she can whip the shirt over her head and off the side of the bed. Beca’s eyes drop immediately, and when Chloe lies down again, she pulls Beca back down on top of her.

Beca kisses her again, deep and searing, again breaking away to kiss down her jaw, her neck, her chest. She shifts again, her thigh landing high between Chloe’s. Fire races down Chloe’s spine and she arches, her own hand winding into her hair.

“Bec,” she gasps, and Beca’s lips return to hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Beca says between kisses. “So, so beautiful.”

Completely overwhelmed, Chloe squirms under Beca, trying to pull her closer. Her hands slide over Beca’s bra strap, and she drags her nails lightly down Beca’s back until she finds the waistband of her pants. Beca stills over her as Chloe’s fingers slide around her hips to rest at the button of her jeans.

Beca pulls away so they can look into each other’s eyes. “Chlo…”

“Do you—” Chloe has to pause to moisten her lips. “Can we—”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.” Chloe doesn’t hesitate. She has no reason to.

Beca’s eyes flutter again, and when she looks at Chloe, it takes Chloe’s breath from her lungs. “Okay,” she says, pressing a gentle kiss to Chloe’s lips. “Yes.”

With trembling fingers, Chloe opens the button and draws down the zipper.

* * *

They’d taken a train to the airport. They’d gone through security together. They’d wasted as much time as possible wandering the hallways between gates, hand-in-hand as they looked through the ridiculously overpriced shops before returning to Beca’s gate, as her flight leaves first. Chloe knows they’ve only delayed the inevitable, though, and before she’s entirely ready (not that she’d ever really be ready), it’s time.

The desk attendant calls for boarding and, though it’ll take a little while until Beca’s zone is called, Chloe knows they have to say their goodbyes.

“So,” Beca starts, glancing over at her.

“Yeah,” Chloe sighs, something in her chest giving an uncomfortable tug.

“Yeah.”

They look at each other for a long moment.

“Um—”

“Beca—”

They try to speak simultaneously, and it breaks off into an awkward laugh. Beca rubs at the back of her neck.

“You go first,” Chloe says, knowing Beca would rather get it out of the way.

“Well,” Beca huffs with a small smile. “I was just gonna say that I’m glad you were bored enough in Munich to hire an escort to play twenty questions.”

Chloe feels a corner of her mouth lift. “I’m glad, too.”

Beca grins at her crookedly, then rubs at the end of her nose with the palm of her hand. “Um, what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, uh, I was going to say that I’m glad it was you,” Chloe says delicately. Because it would have been entirely inappropriate to voice what she’d really been wanting to say— _Take me with you_ —and what she ended up saying is completely true anyway.

Beca gives her that signature close-lipped smile. “So, um, I don’t know if this interview… I mean, it’s still early stages,” she says, as though she isn’t almost guaranteed the job. Chloe knows she’ll get the job; how could she not? “But either way, I think I’ll be staying there—New York—for a little while. And, you know, if you want, when you get back—”

“I’ll call you,” Chloe promises, entwining their fingers together. “Definitely.”

“I don’t know for sure what’ll happen.”

“Neither do I. We match.”

“Cool,” Beca laughs right as the desk attendant calls for final boarding. “I should—”

“Totes,” Chloe says, trying to force a smile as they stand from the uncomfortable gate seats.

Beca checks that she has her bag and hadn’t left anything behind before meeting Chloe’s eyes. “Good luck out there, Chlo,” she says, blinking more often than she normally might.

“You too, Bec,” Chloe manages, her own eyes starting to sting.

There’s a beat of silence where Chloe isn’t sure if they should kiss or not, but the crowd around them makes the decision for them. Instead, she pulls Beca into a tight hug, burying her nose into her neck and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

She hadn’t known Beca long, but Beca feels like home.

Beca has to pull away first. With a nod and a vague gesture in the direction of the dwindling line to board the plane, she starts walking. Chloe thinks she might make some parting noise, but her own throat is too tight to respond.

Still, she watches as Beca joins the line, watches Beca had her boarding pass to the ticketer to be scanned. With barely a glance back and not much fanfare, she watches Beca turn and enter the tunnel, and then she’s gone.

Walking to her own gate, Chloe smiles. She’s definitely texting Beca as soon as she lands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end


End file.
